


Memoriae

by amuk



Category: Percy Jackson & The Olympians (Movies), Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 17:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: History was just a little too close in this room, a little too real. It was too easy to look and wonder about the what-ifs. --Thalia, Luke, Annabeth





	Memoriae

**Author's Note:**

> I love the tragic friendship of these three. Written for the Riordan Verse Zine.

 

“It’s really musty in here.” Thalia coughed as she pushed cobwebs out of the way in the dark room. Taking a cue from her, Annabeth covered her mouth with a hand before groping the grimy wall for a light switch.  It wasn’t long before she heard a soft click nearby and the room was bathed in a pale yellow light.

 

She wasn’t sure if that made the room more or less claustrophobic. It was a small area, with a few cardboard boxes and just enough space for three to lie down. Back when they were preteens, it might have been roomy, but now…Annabeth wasn’t the tallest adult but even she could touch the roof if she wanted to.

 

Yet it had been home and she found herself smiling as she scanned the room.

 

“It’s been ages since we we’ve been here.” Ages since _anyone_ had been here. Judging by the dust on the floor, it had been untouched since they left it. “I can’t believe no one’s found it yet.”

 

“Well, you were always good at finding hiding spots.” Standing her tiptoes, Thalia rubbed Annabeth’s head affectionately. “It’s that big brain of yours.”

 

“You know I’m older than you now, right.” Annabeth glowered but made no move to swat Thalia’s hand away. It made her feel childlike, reminiscent of when she actually had lived here. “By several years.”

 

“Right, right. That’s going to take some time to get used to…” Thalia rubbed the back of her neck, considering it all.

 

There were times when Annabeth wondered what it would be like to have joined the hunters, to have gained immortality and the ability to see the world change. However, it seemed she would have lost more than she gained—her growth, Percy, the ability to change. “It’s going to only get worse with each year.”

 

“True but with each year, I feel you’ll probably have it more difficult than me. Grey hairs, wrinkles—” With a guffaw, she dodged Annabeth’s punch. “Anyways, Luke was always good at locking things, it would have been hard for anyone else to open the door.”

 

She gave her friend a last glare before moving on. “That’s true, though he never liked using his powers,” Annabeth chuckled, remembering the face he would make when they asked him. With a grimace, a pout, and then an imploring _do I have to_ , he’d grumpily get to it.

 

“The face he’d make!” Thalia rolled her eyes, shoulders still shaking from laughter. “It was like he ate something sour.”

 

“Remember that time he had to eat those ripe peaches?” Annabeth grinned. “I swear he would have preferred drinking spoiled milk again. Even if that meant he’d spend three days on the toilet.”

 

“I think he went beyond hate when it came to peaches,” the huntress guffawed, wheezing as she remembered.  “And you used to love them, so he had to keep finding them.”

 

“And with a smile each time.”

 

Sobering up quickly, Thalia frowned. “He was always good at hiding things. Except for his anger at the gods. We should have realized it sooner.”

 

“After he failed his quest, he was never the same. I should have noticed it.” Annabeth bit her lip, remembering just how dark his expression had been back then. Like the constellations, there were so many signs and she had ignored each one until it was too late. If she had noticed earlier, if she had left with him back in San Francisco, would he be alive now?

 

It was a question without an answer—it was far too late for what-ifs. There was only the present, only _now_ , and this meant a timeline where Luke was dead.

 

Scanning the floor, Annabeth crouched down to pick up a small toy. Turning over the plastic figure in her hands, she gave a fond smile. “Now this is something I didn’t expect to see again. I thought I lost it when we had to leave.”

 

“Leave? Chased out, more like,” Thalia scoffed before peering around her friend curiously. “What’s that?”

 

“One of those happy meal toys.” Holding up the Hercules toy, Annabeth snorted. “The Disney movie was pretty inaccurate. He was nothing like this.”

 

“No, definitely not.” Thalia gingerly took the toy. The paint was chipped in places and it was missing an arm. Years of abandonment had not improved its condition. “We wouldn’t have half of our issues if he was anything like the movie.”

 

Taking back the toy, Annabeth pitched her voice lower and moved its arms. “Hello, _sister_. Nice seeing you again.”

 

“You’re spending too much time with Percy.” Thalia shook her head. However, with her cracking a grin, it was hard to gauge how serious she was. “When’d we get it? I don’t think we ever bought a happy meal.”

 

“We didn’t.” Annabeth turned the toy over, lifting the discoloured cape. Scrawled in red ink was the name _Luke_. “Luke gave it to me. It used to be his.”

 

“That’s unusual.” Thalia’s expression softened before she turned away. “I thought he didn’t take anything with him. And considering how much he hated Hermes…”

 

“Maybe.” Annabeth set the toy on a cardboard box. Unbalanced, it fell over immediately. “Maybe it gave him hope.”

 

“Hope.” Thalia returned to searching, opening up one of the smaller cardboard boxes. “I guess if you don’t know his personality, he is kinda…hopeful.” Pulling out a bottle from the box, she turned to Annabeth. “There’s some nectar here, along with bandages.”

 

“Wow.” Annabeth wiped her eyes quickly and pulled out a checklist. “We left these places pretty stocked considering how little we had.”

 

“Yeah, I dunno how, but we always managed to find just enough.” Thalia shrugged, closing the box once more. “Makes it easier now at least.”

 

“Well, satyrs have more hiding spots now.” Annabeth checked off their location on the list. “Just two more places to look at then.”

 

“Just two?” Thalia groaned, slumping forward. Looking haggard, she gave Annabeth the stink eye. “We’ve been at it for days now.”

 

It was strange. Maybe it was because Thalia was eternally a teenager or maybe it was because Annabeth hadn’t been one in so long, but she felt a bit like a parent. Gods, she hoped none of her kids were this rebellious. Forcing some cheer she didn’t entirely feel, she pumped her fist. “We’re almost done!”

 

“You said that last time.” Thalia grimaced, shooting daggers at her. Irritated, she sat down and leaned against a wall. “I’m taking a break.”

 

“…fine.” Annabeth rolled her eyes before joining Thalia. While she also wanted a breather, she questioned taking one in this dusty room. She could feel the years of grime settling on her like a second skin. They’d have to send a clean-up crew in before anyone used it.

 

Looking up, she spotted crayon marks on the wall, a long line labelled with their names. Luke had wanted to keep track of their heights. They had spent the longest time in this hideout and it wasn’t very hard to remember what it used to be like here. Thalia would be sitting near a door, ready to pounce. Luke would be carefully organizing their goods, dividing up their supplies so they had an emergency stock if needed. And she’d be sitting next to him, watching with adoring eyes because Luke could do no wrong back then.

 

He had been a father, a brother, a crush. He turned into a traitor, an enemy, a destroyer.

 

And now—now Annabeth had no idea what hat to give him, where to place this complicated, selfish, selfless man. Maybe they could have talked more; his ideas weren’t wrong, just his methods. If she had asked, if she had known…

 

“Do you think.” Annabeth leaned against Thalia. Sitting like this, she felt like a child again, nestled between her two favourite people. “Do you think we could have stopped him? Saved him?”

 

“They said it was fate, _destiny,_ but!” Thalia ground her teeth, an angry grunt escaping her lips as her fist hit the ground. “I hate those words. Like we couldn’t do anything, like we can’t escape—I…” Her voice trailed off, her words almost too soft for Annabeth to hear. “I know we could have. If we had more time or if I hadn’t been a stupid tree, I know we could have helped him.”

 

“Yeah.” Annabeth gripped Thalia’s hand.

 

 _Do you love me?_ Luke had asked, his voice no more than strangled whisper. The light in his eyes had already started fading and she hadn’t been sure if he could see her, let alone hear her. Even the warmth of his hands, the warmth that had saved her a thousand times over, had already disappeared.

 

 _I do_ , she had answered, _I always did, you’re family._ He should have known the answer, he should have always known the answer. Maybe she should have said it louder, said it clearer. Had he forgotten it? There were so many reasons he had turned away from her, from them, and maybe that was one of them.

 

“You know,” Annabeth mumbled, closing her eyes. “I hate him. Just a little.”

 

Thalia snorted. “There’s no little for me. He should have known better.  I should have been around to punch his idiotic face before he thought of that moronic plan.”

 

Laughing, Annabeth shook her head. “As long as you didn’t break his nose.”

 

“Hmmm…” Thalia considered it. “Well, he did have a good nose. I suppose I’d keep it to his jaw or something.”

 

She wasn’t sure how long reincarnation took. Was there already a baby Luke somewhere, reborn and ready to try for the Isle of the Blessed? He would make it, she was sure.  “Maybe I’ll aim for it.” Annabeth stared up at the ceiling. It would take years but she had always been an overachiever too. “The Isle of the Blessed. If I get there, I can punch him for you.”

 

“Yeah.” Thalia grimaced. Immortality really did have some disadvantages. “I guess I can’t really aim for it.”

 

“That’s true.”  Annabeth hugged Thalia, snuggling in a bit closer. “You could always guide our reincarnations.”

 

“If I did that, I might as well punch him myself,” she grumbled, not quite rejecting the idea.  “But this means I have to deal with more Percy.”

 

“Percy?”

 

“Like he’d let you aim for the Isle without him.” Thalia gave her a look, as though she were an idiot. And maybe she was, because she couldn’t really argue against that. “It was such a pain convincing him to not come.”

 

“That’s…probably true.” Annabeth shrugged but she couldn’t stop the soft smile tugging at her lips. “I guess we’re just not going to leave you alone for a while then.”

 

“Not for a long time,” Thalia agreed, her arms sliding around Annabeth. “And all of your lives had better be long ones. Even Luke’s lives.”

 

Annabeth pressed her face in her friend’s shirt, not quite trusting her voice. Thalia said nothing, stroking her hair softly as they sat there.

 

Before they left, Annabeth pocketed the inaccurate Hercules. _We’re a family_ , he had said when he gave it to her, his smile infectious. Her eyes had been the size of drachmas as she examined the toy, the only one she had seen after leaving her father. He had laughed, light and carefree, his hand ruffling her hair as she had thanked him.

 

 _We’re a family._ Those words rang true, even now. In the end, despite what Kronus did, Luke never forgot that. Maybe it was his destiny to fall, to betray, to die. Maybe he couldn’t fight fate.

 

But there were small rebellions, things that even prophecies couldn’t touch.  The power of love, of family, the promise he had made so long ago. He died as himself, remembering just what, just _who_ he had been fighting for.

 

“Coming?” Thalia asked, standing at the door.

 

“Yeah.” Annabeth hurried after her. In two lifetimes, when she’ll meet him again on the Isle of the Blessed, he’d probably accept her slug with an accepting smile.

 

They were family, after all.

 


End file.
